


Evening of Reflection

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-29
Updated: 2005-12-29
Packaged: 2018-10-26 07:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10782402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: Hermione thinks about her life with Adrian





	Evening of Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Sequel to Lovely Afternoon  


* * *

Hermione opened the door and peeked inside, a smile crossing her lips as she saw Emma sleeping peacefully. She’d all ready checked on Liam, her son snoring softly, sounding just like his Father. She had put the children to bed nearly an hour ago before going back downstairs to finish reading her novel, wanting to get to the end since she was so close. Adrian had disappeared some time in between the last thirty pages, her husband silent as a thief when he was up to something. Once she had realized he was no longer sitting beside her and her feet were resting on the sofa instead of his lap, she’d felt a frisson of excitement spread over her.  
  
  
There had been only the slightest hesitation before she’d placed the bookmark amongst the last ten pages of her novel, Hermione deciding that playing with her husband was far more enjoyable a prospect than simply finishing a book that she could read during lunch the following afternoon. Of course, her decision was aided by the fact that her mind had been unable to focus on the words in front of her after she’d realized he had quietly crept away while she’d been enthralled in the history of healing potions. She should have noticed when he had moved, the room much cooler without his warmth beside her. She should have noticed when her feet were resting on the soft material of the sofa instead of being massaged by her husband as she slowly teased him through his trousers.  
  
  
Only she would ignore the sexy man beside her to read about the origins of mandrake, she thought crossly, realizing she could have been using that time to snog him senseless instead of reading. They had a very loving relationship, sex between them exciting and arousing, but they didn’t make love as often as they had when they’d been dating or had first been married. Two children had drained a bit of their energy and neither of them were quite so young anymore, reaching the thirty year mark a few years ago. Now with the third baby on the way and her stubborn refusal to quit her correspondence job at the Ministry until she had to leave plus taking care of Liam and Emma, she was usually so exhausted these last months that she did little more than sleep in his strong arms.  
  
  
Adrian was a wonderful husband and father, helping her with the children, his family his first priority in his life. To be honest, she’d had her doubts when they first met, convincing herself that he was nothing more than a handsome flirt who spent his life doing daring, exciting things and shagging daring, exciting witches. There had been attraction from the moment their eyes first met across the room at Pansy’s party a decade ago, mutual awareness that had caused her skin to flush and her teeth to nibble nervously on her bottom lip. He’d sought her out, flirting with her, giving her the most heated looks, as if she’d been naked and he could see into her very soul. Hermione had been stunned at her reaction to the handsome wizard. She’d not been a virgin, but the two men she’d been involved with during her twenty-two years had not prepared her for the reality of the physical attraction and desire that Adrian had caused with just a slight quirk of his lips and a thorough look from his green eyes.  
  
  
Knowing his reputation, she’d resisted his advances, no matter how badly she’d been wanting to throw caution to the wind and give herself to him for as long as he wanted her. Her reaction had scared her, flustered her, and she’d made excuses to Pansy and Ron before leaving the party early. He’d followed her, taunting her with words of seduction, challenging her by calling her a coward with a lazy smile on his lips and a gleam in his eyes.  
  
  
She’d accepted his challenge, acting totally unlike herself by kissing him senseless. That kiss, even after ten years, was still recalled easily. The heat, lust, need, the two of them a bit scared and confused but taking the risk, devouring one another right on the street for anyone to see. Their kisses were still like that, even the chaste brushing of lips that were merely promises of what was to come later, consuming and hungry. That had been their beginning. A passionate kiss in the middle of the sidewalk in a slight drizzling rain had been the start of something that changed both their lives.  
  
  
She’d left quickly, her cheeks flushed and her body on fire, unable to believe she’d been groping and snogging a man she only knew by reputation, and it wasn’t a very good reputation at that. He was sexy, vibrant, daring, gorgeous, and definitely *not* what she had wanted or needed. Or, at least, she hadn’t realized he was what she needed. She had known she wanted him, had since her sixth year when she’d gone to the Pitch to meet Harry and Ron only to find the Slytherins finishing their practice.  
  
  
Her eyes had been instantly drawn to someone she had never noticed before, noting the way the sunlight seemed to love him, golden brown hair and tan skin, a smug smile as he’d bested Malfoy, eyes a darker green than Harry’s flashing with amusement, and a general love of life that was practically visible. In that moment, she’d realized what lust was and finally understood why her dorm mates were often distracted from their schoolwork by boys. For the rest of her sixth year, she’d been infatuated with the charming Slytherin, though no one had any idea her thoughts were not buried in her books and schoolwork. They’d have been shocked to learn she had been having the most wicked fantasies about Adrian when she should have been doing Ancient Runes work. He was gone seventh year, her fantasies remaining but there had been Head duties and tests and Voldemort so she’d slowly forgotten her silly crush on the older wizard.  
  
  
However, during that moment of eye contact during Pansy and Ron’s engagement party, it had all come back to her. The fantasies, sneaking peaks at him whenever possible, the thrill of having a secret and knowing that she really was female, despite her friends’ obliviousness to the fact. It wasn’t quite so childish and unfamiliar now, older and wiser, she recognized lust clearly but she wanted more than just a one night stand, the reputation of Adrian Pucey indicating that he never went on a second date with anyone. She’d only had sex with two men, both people she’d been involved with for a time, trusting them with her body and caring about them both even now, their breakups amicable when it was realized that something was missing.  
  
  
Sex had been okay, the first time a bit awkward and painful but Ron had been careful and it had been enjoyable. True, afterwards, they both laughed and agreed that they had been friends for so long that it was almost like shagging a sibling, their six month relationship ending with a promise to remain friends. And they had, Hermione even becoming friends with Pansy, the woman who completed Ron in much the same way Adrian completed her. Her other relationship hadn’t lasted three months, a wizard from work who didn’t ignite her body in the way she had read about in Muggle romance novels, but he was a kind man and their times together had been pleasant. Neither Ron nor David had caused her body to feel as if it was going to melt or made her feel like she might come just from one kiss like Adrian had, but she was determined to not become another notch on his broomstick even if she desperately wanted him inside her.  
  
  
Adrian, it turned out, was just as stubborn as she was, owling her that evening with an invitation for dinner the following day. She’d said no, remaining polite but firm. That firmness began to waver when he arrived at her office at the end of the day with a single red rose and a determined gleam in his eyes. He’d practically kidnapped her from her office, refusing to accept her negative answer to his invitation because he claimed he could see yes in her eyes. The annoying prat had tossed her over his shoulder and apparated before she could even call for help. After smacking him rather hard, she’d been astonished to find out he’d taken her to Venice for dinner, Italian her favorite, which he smugly informed her he knew after he’d spent the afternoon questioning Pansy about her.  
  
  
She was rather proud that she had resisted him for nearly twenty-four hours. They’d spent the evening eating pasta and talking, and she’d learned that there was much more to Adrian Pucey than simply a rather pretty face. That dinner had led to another and then another. Six weeks later, he spent the night and they had breakfast together. He was so unlike her that most her friends didn’t believe it would last. Adrian was handsome, sexy, outgoing, active, hadn’t given a knut for school or books, rarely took anything too seriously, loved surprises, was a huge flirt even after they’d become involved, and he loved Quidditch. Basically everything she was not.  
  
  
She was serious, focused, ambitious, loved research and books, insecure when it came to her looks and attractiveness, hated surprises, liked to be in control of every situation around her, and loathed Quidditch. Somehow, though, they worked. There was a balance between them, a blending of love, attraction, respect, and admiration. He helped her learn how to relax and she helped him grow up. Within six months, they had been engaged.  
  
  
It was impulsive and she’d wondered if it was too soon, if it was a mistake, but it had felt right and she’d had no regrets. They’d been married the following year and were still very happy and in love. They fought like any normal couple, but they refused to go to bed angry, not that Adrian tended to stay angry long, Hermione usually being the stubborn one during arguments. There had been a bit of a rough patch, before Emma was born, when she’d been working full time and he’d accepted an assignment from the Daily Prophet to cover the Quidditch season and had been traveling a lot, Adrian working as a reporter and photographer for various publications, both Muggle and Wizarding.  
  
  
She’d been worried they were drifting apart, that they had nothing in common except sex, insecure and worried that he might find some witch that was prettier than her or more exciting. When he’d surprised her on evening after work by kidnapping her, again, and taking her to a beautiful hotel in Italy by the sea, she’d known her anxiety was for nothing because she could see in every look, every touch, every word that Adrian loved her. That was the weekend that Emma was created, arriving nine months later, and it had been the last time he had accepted an assignment that required him to be away for more than a couple of days.  
  
  
He could make her feel loved with just a smile, feel sexy with just a certain look, make her feel lucky every time she saw their children. It hadn’t been expected, falling in love with Adrian, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world. They didn’t make love as often as they once had, but, when they did, it was passionate, lusty, and unbelievably good. A simple hug or a brief kiss let her know he desired her, always a promise of things to come when they had time to spend hours exploring one another’s bodies or when he’d surprised her for a quick, wild shag when they knew they would be undisturbed. Deciding that she had given him enough time to make his plans for their night together, Hermione shut the door to Emma’s room and walked down the hallway to their bedroom.  
  
  
She opened the door to the bedroom, her eyes flashing with anticipation as she saw the candles floating throughout the room, a scene of seduction, her husband rather romantic when it came to such things. There was a sweet scent of vanilla and she could hear the sultry sounds of a saxophone playing softly in the background. And, in the middle of their large bed, Adrian was sitting bare-chested, his camera in one hand and a very naughty smile on his lips. Closing the door quietly behind her, Hermione smiled in return. This was going to be one very wicked night.  



End file.
